


Deptford, New Jersey

by siriuslyyellow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Written in 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyyellow/pseuds/siriuslyyellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gives Dean something to think about during a stay in a small southern New Jersey town.</p>
<p>Challenge: Dean/Sam, overhead projector, water bottle, sock, "Don't put it there!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deptford, New Jersey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teas_me (ladydeth12)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=teas_me+%28ladydeth12%29).



> Originally posted on the LJ community wincest_fic.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A sign declaring “Welcome to Deptford” greeted the Winchesters when they arrived. Sam and Dean were in the Impala following John’s over-sized truck. Deptford was a small, quaint town in southern New Jersey. It was relatively quiet, and filled with nice, normal-looking people. Sam knew they would probably not be able to stay here inconspicuously. At least, not with Dean cleaning out his guns with the blinds open and their dad emptying canisters of salt everywhere. Sam knew it was his fate to be in a weird family, and he knew that he was weird, too, but it still made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t very good at hiding things, and hiding a whole life would be pretty difficult for anyone, especially when the story changed every few weeks.

It had been a thirteen hour drive to New Jersey, and their father had insisted on driving through the night. That meant Sam and Dean switched off every few hours, leaving them both tired and cranky.

The Metallica cassette tape clicked off and Dean groaned, reaching a hand over Sam’s legs to get another one from the dashboard. Sam’s breath hitched at Dean’s movement. His heart pounded and his fingers clenched into balls in his jeans. When he didn’t move for a minute, Dean cocked an eyebrow questioningly up at him. Sam didn’t say anything. Dean, distracted, grinned when he successfully found the tape and popped it in.

“ _What?_ You’re acting weird, dude,” Dean informed Sam, going back to his normal driving position and sounding slightly miffed.

Sam let out a breath and relaxed, then realized he needed to say something. “I know we have to, but I don’t want to go to another new school,” he complained, blurting out the first thing that he could think of. “Every time I start to get some friends, we move. This sucks.”

Dean sighed, sick of hearing the same complaint over and over again, “Sammy, you know what we do is important. It’s our work, ours and dad’s. Making friends doesn’t matter. Jeez, Sam, you’re eighteen. We have a job to do. Time to grow up.”

Sam hated it when Dean talked to him like that, and Dean knew it, too. The look on his face must have been pretty downcast because Dean patted him on the shoulder encouragingly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll make friends here, too, Sammy. Everybody loves you.”

Sam’s eyes looked quickly at Dean’s face and then back again. Dean didn’t notice.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean had been right, of course. There were plenty of people interested in Sam on his first day at school. Lots of girls, but Sam didn’t care about them. He was nice and polite, a gentleman, but he didn’t really care. They were all obviously flirting, so how could he take them seriously? Some guys came up to him, too, but only one stood out to him.

His name was Zack. Zack was shorter than Dean, and therefore he was also way shorter than Sam. His hair was longer than Dean’s, just long enough to brush against the tips of his ears. He had dark eyes that were constantly alight with curiosity. Dean’s eyes were brighter and generally shone with mischief or concern. Zack seemed to put time and effort into choosing his clothes, making sure he looked good. Dean didn’t give a shit what he wore, and he looked good in anything- even nothing.

One day Sam would stop comparing everyone he met with Dean. Today was clearly not that day.

Sam and Zack got off pretty well from the get-go. Zack was funny and loud. He was also so obviously gay that it made Sam laugh. Zack didn’t care about things like following his parents’ wishes too much, and Sam thought he was a good change of pace from a certain older brother who always loved being a daddy’s boy.

They had biology together. It was nice. They weren’t partners, but their desks were next to each other and so they still talked and joked around when the teacher wasn’t paying attention.

“I completely forgot,” Zack moaned, laying his head down on the lunch table. “We had three chapters to read last night, not two. Can you fill me in?”

It had been a week since the Winchesters moved in, and Sam already felt like he had known Zack for years. Of course, Sam didn’t tell Zack anything important. He couldn’t. What would he say? How would he explain? It just wasn’t possible. Sam was used to lying, anyway. He lied to himself. He lied to Dean. Why not Zack?

“Sure,” Sam smiled in reply. “No problem.”

After a quick recap, Zack thanked Sam and bit his lower lip. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

Zack looked a little embarrassed. “Do you wanna, uh, come over after school?”

Sam paused, considering. Then he grinned. “Sure thing.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Sam got home that night, Dean was waiting for him.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Sam was immediately on edge. “What are you talking about? It’s only ten.”

Dean looked like he could have killed him and been completely justified. “I know it’s ten! You were supposed to be home at three!”

Cocking an eyebrow, Sam replied curtly, “Says who? My curfew’s ten. I’m here at ten. What’s the problem?”

Dean’s eyes widened with fury, and he threw his hands up into the air. “You stupid fuck! You didn’t call me, that’s the problem! I was-”

Sam waited for Dean to finish but he didn’t.

“You were what?” Sam urged him on.

Shaking his head with a twitch of his lips, Dean muttered, “Forget it.”

But Sam wasn’t having that. As Dean turned around, Sam caught his arm. Their eyes met, and when Sam saw Dean’s looking anxious, Sam’s changed from angry to confused.

“What? You were what?”

Dean wrenched his arm away. “I was worried, okay? I was worried! Christ, Sammy, you didn’t even fucking call! What if something had got you?”

Sam smiled a little shyly, and rubbed his hand at the back of his neck. He began spouting apologies. Dean had been worried. It was all Sam could do not to jump for joy.

Patting him on the back, Dean muttered, “It’s okay, Sam, really. Just remember next time.”

Sam nodded. Dean smiled, his eyes moving to spot something on Sam’s neck that he hadn’t noticed until now. His smile faded. Moving his fingers to the collar of Sam’s shirt, he pushed it aside to get a better look.

Sam stopped breathing. “Dean?”

Hard eyes met his. Dean asked, in an accusatory voice, “What the hell’s this?”

Confusion quickly became realization. Sam had forgotten about Zack. How Zack had tried to come on to him when he went over to his place. How Sam had let Zack make out with him for a few minutes. How when Zack had went for Sam’s jeans, Sam had declared it was time to leave. He had just forgotten. And now, with Dean looking at him like that, what was he going to say?

“Nothing,” Sam pulled away, and put his collar back in its original position.

Dean’s face changed. He laughed, and Sam didn’t know why. “Sam, did you already find a chick to fuck? I haven’t even looked yet. Nice going, man.” He clapped him on the shoulder.

Sam wanted to die.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He decided to tell Zack about Dean. It was his fault Dean thought he was getting it on with some random girl. He could help Sam figure out a way to deal with the whole Dean thing. Plus, it would be an easy way to let him know Sam _wasn’t_ interested.

Zack would understand. He was gay and from New Jersey. That had to count for something, right?

“So,” Sam said without preamble when he was sure no one else would overhear, “I kind-of like my brother.”

Zack shrugged. “Yeah, you’ve said so before. What else is new?”

Sam looked at his best-friend-of-the-current-town-the-Winchesters-were-calling-home and wanted to hit him over the head with his biology book. The thing weighed at least twenty pounds. Sam was sure it would leave a mark.

He shook his head, then tried again, “I really like him, Zack.” Sam repeated himself to be clear, “ _Really_ really.”

Zack paused and his mouth made a comical O shape. He looked like he wanted to say any one of a hundred things, and when he finally settled on one it was, “Well, you two _are_ from Kansas.”

As if that had anything to do with anything.

Zack looked at Sam and said seriously, “Sorry about last night, then. I, uh, didn’t know.”

Sam smirked, “It’s cool, man. Just don’t do it again! Dean thinks I’m screwing some chick.” He looked dejected.

Zack gave him a friendly and encouraging pat on the back. “Good luck.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up questioningly. “With what?”

“Telling your brother you wanna fuck him,” Zack said matter-of-factly, then laughed when Sam covered his mouth with a hand, looking mortified.

Then Sam punched him in the shoulder, and Zack yelled, “Ow! Be careful with me! I’m fragile.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam just shook his head and went into their next class.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean was waiting outside in the Impala for Sam to get out of school. And man, that was some annoying shit. He was trying to be patient, but how much could you expect from the poor guy? He’d already been waiting ten minutes, and okay, yeah, he had been early. But then Sam should get the fuck out of school earlier.

And it wasn’t like he could leave, not when Sam might run off to screw some random girl. Fuck that shit. Dean didn’t know why the idea appalled him so much, but it did, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He would just have to stalk Sam to make sure he didn’t get molested. Or have consensual sex. Or whatever.

Dean was quickly running out of things to do to entertain himself during the whole stalking Sam thing. He wasn’t in much of a singing mood, so the Blue Oyster Cult cassette wasn’t really helping to distract him. He had an empty water bottle on the floor that smelled faintly of alcohol from the night before, but that was pretty much useless to him now. And there was a half-eaten container of fries from McDonald’s there too.

Yuck. You’d think he never cleaned his baby. Not that he did, but, you know, it was the point. He just didn’t think leaving disgusting shit lying around would help in attracting the ladies.

So he turned off the Impala, gathered up the bottle and fries, and went to go throw them out. He had to go inside Sammy’s school to do it, and that’s when he saw a few secretaries in the main office.

Being Dean, once the garbage was disposed of, he high-tailed it over there. “Afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them with his most flirtatious smile.

There were three there, two older, and one younger. They all giggled, but the two older secretaries quickly left to do work, and Dean was left with the younger.

Which suited him just fine.

“And how are we doing today, sweetheart?”

She giggled again. Dean wondered briefly why he was bothering with a vapid girl, then remembered that it was the same reason he always chased after them. They were easy.

He continued to flirt with the secretary for a bit, completely ignoring the conversation at hand, then checked his watch. Dean could not fucking believe it. Only two minutes had passed? That was _it_?!

He obviously needed another form of entertainment. Quick.

Smiling at the secretary, Dean said, “Hey darling, do you mind if I page my brother Sam up here? Our dad’s pretty sick and I don’t want to keep him waiting.” Which was complete and utter bullshit, but as long as it worked…

Which it totally did. She nodded fervently, “Sure! Just press this button right here and talk into the receiver.”

Dean smirked, put the receiver to his lips, then announced in his best impersonation-of-an-authority-figure voice, “Sammy, to the office, please. Sammy, to the office. Thank you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Inside Sam’s classroom, the teacher was standing next to the overhead projector, switching slides showing various human bones, while Zack kept giving him shifty eyes. After about five minutes of this, Sam sighed angrily and kicked him underneath the desk. Because seriously. What the fuck.

Zack looked over at him and back away again. He was obviously freaked out by Sam’s confession, and Sam couldn’t really blame him. It wasn’t every day someone told you they wanted to fuck their brother.

The teacher was saying something about an essay due the next week when Sam heard the beep that indicated the loudspeaker was about to be used.

Then he heard the announcement.

Sam could have throttled Dean right then and there, but everyone was laughing so hard that his anger quickly evaporated into embarrassment. He looked at the teacher, pointed to himself and then the door, and the teacher nodded.

Zack piped up, “Can I go to the bathroom?” Rolling his eyes, the teacher waved his hands in a motion of consent and dismissal, then continued on with the lesson.

The two of them left the classroom together, Zack following Sam to the office.

“I thought you had to go to the bathroom?” Sam asked for the heck of it, already knowing the reply.

“Nah,” Zack shook his head, then grinned, “I just wanted to meet the infamous Dean Winchester.”

“Say anything, anything at all, and I will kill you in your sleep.”

Zack laughed, not realizing Sam meant it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean was leaning against the counter, still putting the moves on the secretary, when Sam came in. He was with some kid Dean didn’t know, which kinda pissed him off in a weird way. Like, who the fuck was this and why the fuck were they walking with his Sammy?

The kid looked Dean up and down, then smirked and said to Sam, “Now I get it.”

Sam stepped on the kid’s foot, causing the kid to yelp and draw disapproving looks from the staff.

Dean completely ignored this exchange and raised his eyebrow at the kid. “Sammy? Who’s this?”

Sam moved his feet back and forth a bit, uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, right. Dean, this is my friend, Zack. Zack, this is my brother, Dean.”

Dean nodded at the kid, who smiled back and then said, “I’ve heard _so_ much about you.”

“Uh, thanks,” Dean replied, confused.

“Seriously, Sam,” Zack smirked at the younger brother, “Seeing is believing.”

Sam’s eye twitched. “Is there a reason you don’t think I’ll kill you?”

The bell to let school out rang. Zack looked at Sam, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” he said a bit too intimately.

Eyebrows rising, Sam replied, “Er, yeah. Later.” Hadn’t he gone over this with Zack already? Sam was sure the message came across. Maybe Zack was just fooling around.

Dean was eyeing the way Zack’s hand lingered on Sam’s shoulder with extreme distaste. Sam and Zack both saw the look, and Zack removed his hand, waved bye to Dean, and left.

Sam looked over at Dean once Zack was gone and said, “You shouldn’t page me like that, Dean. I’m eighteen. I’m a senior in high school. You’re the only one who would page their brother like that.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “That just means I love you more than the other brothers love their brothers.”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat. Then Dean laughed, “Got your stuff?”

Sam’s heart was back to normal. A little bit of control would do wonders from time to time. He replied, “Lemme get it. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Nah, I’ll walk with you.”

Dean said goodbye to the secretaries, and the youngest looked sad to see him go. “Flirting again?” Sam asked, a hint of something more than curiosity in his voice.

“No, just talking,” Dean answered. Sam looked at him. “Okay, okay! I was flirting,” Dean confessed. “Jeez, like it’s a crime,” he muttered under his breath.

Sam laughed, “Only for you.”

Dean was quiet for a second, before asking with too much curiosity, “So, who was that kid?”

“That was Zack,” Sam sounded confused, “Didn’t we just go over this?”

Groaning, Dean went on, “Not his name, you dumbshit. I was wondering if he was your friend… from the other night.”

Sam’s face went red. How did he know? Well, Dean wasn’t an idiot. Zack did act way too touchy-feely earlier, and that’s probably what clued Dean in. He was going to kill Zack for giving Dean the entirely wrong impression. Okay, technically, it was the right impression, but still. It was _not_ the impression Sam wanted Dean to have.

Dean glanced at Sam’s blush and felt heat rise in his chest, but didn’t say anything else about it.

They were silent until they got to Sam’s locker. Sam opened up the lock, got out his backpack, and re-locked it. He reached to pick up his things, but Dean got there first.

“I’ll carry it,” Dean stated, casually swinging the bag over his back.

Sam protested, “No, it’s too heavy, I’ll take it.”

But Dean just laughed and continued walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Are you coming or what?”

Sam had half a mind to reply ‘or what’ just to be a pain in the ass, but thought better of it, and followed Dean out to the Impala. A few girls gathered in groups here and there pointed at the two of them and giggled. Sam was wondering what was so funny when he realized that Dean was carrying his backpack for him, a very typically high school boyfriend move.

Did those girls think Dean was his boyfriend? Did that mean he was the ‘girlfriend’?

Sam tried not to think about it, but that only made it worse, and on the way to the Impala, he had convinced himself that everyone in town thought they were gay together, and Dean was going to hate him forever because none of the girls would get with a gay guy.

They were walking pretty slowly, Sam telling Dean about his day, and so the parking lot was nearly empty by the time they reached it, everyone having left quickly because it was a Friday. Dean gave Sam’s backpack back to him while he opened Sam’s door, and Sam sat down and threw his backpack in next to him, accidentally right on top of Dean’s cassettes.

“Don’t put it there!” Dean shouted at him. Dean reached over Sam to move his backpack out of the way, but that put him in very close proximity to his younger brother. Who seemed to currently not be breathing.

Then Sam did something Dean did not expect. He reached up, wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, and kissed him. And not a brotherly hi-I-haven’t-seen-you-since-Christmas-how-are-the-kids sort-of kiss. A full-on, mouth-searching, tongue-probing one. Dean didn’t even know Sam could kiss like that. He couldn’t even have guessed that Sam would kiss Dean like that. He didn’t know how to interpret his confused thoughts, battling emotions, or his body’s eager reaction. He was completely stunned into silence, and let Sam kiss him without so much as a breath escaping from his lips.

When Sam pulled away, Dean whispered, so low that had Sam been another inch away, he would have missed it, “Sammy, what..?”

A sheepish grin followed a blush on the younger brother’s face. But he gave no explanation, nor apology. Instead, he looked Dean straight in the eyes and said, matter-of-factly, “I’m in love with you.”

Wait, what? Sam was in love with Dean? As in, _in love_ in love? But how did this happen? When? Where the fuck was Dean at the time? And, most importantly, why Dean?

Dean was freaking out. Sam saying ‘I’m in love with you’ instead of ‘I love you’ left no room for argument from Dean. There was no confusion on that point. It was a romantic statement, something you’d only hear from a lover, not a family member. Is that what Sam wanted? For Dean to be his lover?

It was too much, and way too fast. This was Sammy, his Sammy, his little brother. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam cut him off.

Sam continued, “It was Zack the other night, you were right, but we didn’t really do anything. I… I told him I wanted you.”

Dean felt his face flush and he gulped. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Look, Dean, I know, okay? Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way. I just wanted to let you know,” Sam hurriedly explained, as if he thought Dean was about to run screaming in the opposite direction.

And it was such a typical Sam statement that Dean had to smile. He laughed silently, shaking his head. He just wanted to let Dean know? Well, shit. He knew. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do? Sam obviously hadn’t thought about that part, now had he.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean couldn’t get it out of his head. The way Sam wrapped his arms around his neck, the feel of Sam’s lips against his. Dean knew he didn’t like the idea of Sam being with someone else. Was this why? Was he jealous?

The notion seemed absurd, and yet when it was all laid out like that, Dean had to take a moment to think about it. After all, he and Sam were always together. They protected each other, looked out for each other, helped with each other during their worst times, and enjoyed each other during the best. It was hard for Dean to look at their enjoyment of each other’s company as anything but platonic. They were _brothers_ , for the love of God. What would people say? What would their dad say?

Why couldn’t Dean stop thinking about the mark on Sam’s neck and the way Sam’s tongue felt against his own?

Dean just didn’t want to think about it. But he was still thinking about it, sitting at the main table cleaning his gun, when the hotel door opened and Sammy walked in.

“Hey,” Sam said, nervously.

“Hey,” Dean answered in the same tone.

Sam pulled off his shoes and socks, tossing them aside. Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam did so. Why was he so intent on looking? Sam took off his jacket next, and Dean unconsciously licked his lips, looking Sam up and down.

Oh God. Did he want his little brother?

“Dean,” Sam stated.

“I wasn’t watching on purpose,” Dean said quickly. At Sam’s bewildered look, he tried again. “Uh… yeah? What?”

Sam continued, hesitantly, “You remember a couple of months ago I e-mailed Stanford?”

Eyes narrowing, Dean slowly replied, “Yeah?”

A smile crossed Sam’s face. “I got in.”

Dean grinned, wryly. “That’s great, Sammy, but, um, so what?”

Sam blinked and looked pointedly at Dean. He tried again slowly, enunciating every syllable, “I. Got. In.”

“Not like you’re going,” Dean shrugged, as if stating the obvious.

The younger brother looked at the older. “Dean.”

“What?” Dean raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Of course I’m going,” Sam said, annoyed.

Dean stared, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “What? No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” Sam repeated, “I am.”

Dean panicked. He protested with an incredulous-sounding, “Sammy!”

“Dean,” Sam took a soothing breath, “why did you think I applied? For the hell of it?”

That made Dean pause. “Uh… yeah?”

“No! Dude, I’m going to college,” Sam waved his hands in frustration, trying to illustrate his point. “You can’t stop me. Dad can’t, either.”

“Sammy,” Dean licked his lips, thinking quickly, “we got work to do-”

“No,” Sam snorted, “You and dad have work to do. _I’m_ going to law school.”

Sam said it like it was bible truth. Dean felt the room spin. He was glad he was sitting down, otherwise he might have fallen.

How could Sam do this to him? Make him think about all these things and then just leave? Did he really not care? But then, why tell Dean at all? Just to get over it?

No, Dean was sure Sam meant it. But what could he do? If Sam stayed, he would continue to hunt. There wasn’t any getting around that fact; they would hunt for as long as there were creatures that needed to be killed. Even besides that, Dean knew how Sam felt about him. He still wasn’t sure about his own feelings, but suddenly an option had popped up that Dean had never really considered before. If Sam left, he would go to Stanford. There would be lots of studying to do, and Sam loved to study. He’d get a law degree and a great job somewhere. Probably find someone besides his brother to settle down with, and live together in a nice town like Deptford behind a white picket fence.

If Sam stayed, he would have violence and incest. If he left, he would have knowledge and freedom.

Who would stay?

“G-,” Dean swallowed, then hoarsely spit out, “Good luck.”

Sam’s mouth twitched from uncertainty into a smile. “Thanks, Dean,” he replied, and went into the bathroom.

Dean heard the water running and already wished Sam was back. How would he be able to live without his brother? And now that Dean had begun to think of Sam in a very non-brotherly sort-of way, it complicated matters even further.

Even if he could survive without having Sam around, did he want to?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They left town the next day. John had come home, announcing that the creature was dead and it was time to move on. Sam had promised Zack he’d write, Dean had packed their stuff, and they were pulling out of the parking lot in the Impala before Dean got up the nerve to ask Sam.

“Uh,” Dean began, rather ineloquently, “hey, listen. Did you…”

Sam waited for a minute after Dean’s voice trailed off. Then he encouraged, “Did I..?”

Dean’s nerve wavered. “Um, ask dad yet?”

“No, I didn’t _tell_ him yet. I thought it wouldn’t be best to get into a fight while I still have time before I leave,” Sam explained.

“You shouldn’t wait too long,” Dean cautioned, “Give him time to get used to the idea.”

But Sam shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I’m going, no matter what he thinks about it.”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. They drove on in silence for a bit. Then Dean glanced over at Sam to find him looking at him. Sam turned quickly away, his face turning red. Dean felt his face flush a bit at that, too.

“Listen, Sammy,” Dean tried again. “Sam… Sam, I… I thought maybe we should talk about what happened, um, the other day.”

Sam crossed his arms over his broad chest in a defensive posture. “What did you wanna talk about? I told you it was okay. You don’t have to-”

But Dean cut him off, “Don’t be like that, Sammy.”

Dean reached his hand over to take Sam’s, but Sam had lifted his hand to pull the visor down. Dean withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Sam hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s talk,” Dean repeated, taking a slow, steadying breath.

They drove past a sign that read “You are now leaving Deptford” in colorful bold letters.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_fin._


End file.
